


The Gang Defines Assault

by petals_and_bones



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Oneshot, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Romance, SO MUCH ALCOHOL, Typical Gang Arguments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petals_and_bones/pseuds/petals_and_bones
Summary: You punch a harmless guy in an alley and his friends can't decide if you've assaulted him or not. Doesn't stop you from spending the night at their bar, though.Currently a oneshot, may develop into something more!
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Gang Defines Assault

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly purely wrote this as a way to cope with the fact that I wanna fuck a character who canonically smells like cheese and is illiterate. Oh well. Let's romance Charlie Kelly.

You hated walking alone at night.

Snow was falling slowly, creating a dimly-glowing blanket of white that kept your path partially illuminated as you trudged in the direction of your apartment. You didn’t get off your shift until after all the buses had stopped running- deep down, you figured that the fresh air probably did you better than inhaling some crackhead’s BO on a crowded bus, but still. Your fingers idly traced the sharp ridges of the house keys in your pocket, just ready to sink into the cheek of anyone who tried to fuck with you.

Dingy street lights glowed above your head as you kept your gaze firmly ahead of you, jaw clenched, trying to keep your mind off of how dark your surroundings were. Somewhere off in the distance, a siren had been blaring for nearly seven minutes without going anywhere. You flinched at every noise, the sounds of a busy city leaving your nerves completely frayed. 

‘Keep it together,’ you told yourself, ‘you’ve never been mugged before and that isn’t about to start now. One foot in front of the other. Just gotta get home.’

The slow, steady rhythm of your shoes against the pavement became your primary focus. Thud. Thud. Thud. The impact of concrete against your heels, resonating with every step, and followed by the softest echo as your footfalls bounced off the surrounding walls.

And then, slowly, it dawned on you that you weren’t hearing an echo of your own footfalls. You were hearing someone else’s.

Terror stole into your heart and sent all the blood in your body plunging into your feet. You willed yourself to keep walking, images of being trapped at gunpoint or snatched in a chokehold filling your mind and leaving you half-paralyzed with fear. The footsteps matched yours perfectly. Your hands clenched in your pockets. Whoever it was couldn’t have been more than five or six feet behind you. They’d notice if you pulled out your phone.

Your stomach tightened and blood rushed in your ears. There was only one option. If they got close to you, you’d-

“Hey, excuse me-”

Adrenaline surged you forward as you wheeled around, rearing back your fist and slamming it into the stranger’s face. Knuckles met cartilage, which gave way with a stomach-churning crunch. He let out a strangled yelp, collapsing to the ground and pressing his hands to his nose. “Holy- what the  _ fuck,  _ dude?!” His shrill voice cut through the silence of the alley, loud and perplexed.

Your hand throbbed painfully and you pulled it back against your chest, wincing as you stared at the man. Panic gave way to confusion as he whimpered, getting to his feet. He was shorter than you expected, wearing some kind of green army jacket. He had dark, short hair that jutted in almost every direction. He looked… well,  _ harmless.  _ Guilt overtook your common sense.

“Shit, I’m- I’m sorry, I thought you were gonna mug me or something.” You offered weakly, stepping closer to see if he was okay. He sniffed, winced, and pressed his hands tighter to his face.

“I think you- fuck, my nose… I think you broke it…” 

He pulled his hands away- his features were hard to make out in the dim light, but there was a distinct glint of blood that was now freely dripping from his nose. “Shit,” you cursed, pulling a crumpled cocktail napkin from your pocket. “Tilt your head back, we should stop the bleeding.”

The man let out a weak yelp as you pressed the napkin to his face. “Why’d you sneak up on me like that if you  _ didn’t _ wanna get punched?” You asked, curling your lip a little as blood got on your fingers.

“You dropped this,” he responded, keeping his head back as he extended one of his hands. He was holding your wallet. It must have fallen out of your pocket. You wordlessly took it, feeling like the shittiest person in the world. 

“Thanks- god, I feel like such a fucking shithead. Please don’t press any charges. Can I make it up to you?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, not the first time I’ve been punched this week.” He winced again as you dabbed at the bloodstream. Something about his voice was strangely endearing- and the way he was so nice about literally being assaulted made something in your chest warm up.

“Hey, listen. I just got off work. How about I buy you a drink, okay? Maybe we can go somewhere to get some ice on that nose?”

His expression pulled up into a half-smirk. “Well, I, uh, I was just on my way back to my bar. It’s just a few blocks away if you wanna come by.”

What luck. “Sounds okay to me.”

As you walked beside the stranger, who said his name was Charlie, you found out that he and his friends owned a local pub and they were, in his words, ‘pretty cool, I guess’. On the better-lit streets, you could see that he actually had a pretty pleasant face despite his injury. Some scruffy facial hair, green eyes, and remarkably expressive eyebrows that never stopped moving as he talked to you. The guy was like a little walking dynamo.

“Well, here we are!” His voice cracked as he pushed open the door to the place: ‘Paddy’s Pub’.

The warmth from inside washed over you as you trailed inside after him. It was about what you’d expected, just your average, everyday bar with a sparse population of morose-looking patrons. The moment you walked in, a buff, intense-looking guy behind the bar looked up from the glass he was polishing. “What the hell happened to  _ you?” _

“Long story, Mac.” Charlie responded as he shut the door behind you. “Need you to do the thing.”

“God, you’re a mess.” The bartender, Mac, furrowed his brow as he haphazardly put the glass down and walked over to Charlie. You watched, fascinated and somewhat disturbed, as Mac rolled his already short sleeves up to his shoulders and put both hands on either side of Charlie’s bleeding and crooked nose.

“One… two…  _ three!”  _ They said in unison, and the shorter man shrieked as Mac twisted his nose back into place with an audible  _ crunch. _

Then, the bizarre ritual finished, Mac walked back to his place behind the bar as if nothing had happened. Charlie shook his head, let out a long breath, and shot you a wide smile. There was still some blood on his teeth. “That’s better!”

You stood frozen in place. “Uhh… I kinda figured you’d go to a doctor or something?”

His face twisted up in bemusement. “Why would I? Now c’mon, I’ll get you a drink. On the house.”

“Who’s the chick?” Another unfamiliar voice cut him off as you peeled off your coat. It belonged to a… different-looking older gentleman who sat at the bar nursing a beer. To put it bluntly, he looked like a personified testicle. 

You began to say your name, but Charlie cut you off and introduced you as he walked behind the bar. “I scared her in an alley and she punched me in the face.”

“Huh.” The old man looked you up and down, then nodded approvingly. “Thanks. Someone needed to do it. Name’s Frank.”

“Nice to meet you.” You managed, smiling slightly as you sat a few seats down from him. Charlie popped the cap off a bottle and slid it down the bar to you. You realized with a slight wave of revulsion that there was some blood smudged on the label.

“Why are you sneaking up on women in dark alleys, Charlie?” 

‘Goddamn, how many people does he know in this fucking bar?’

A borderline-emaciated blonde woman came walking out of the back office, along with a taller guy who was  _ not _ wearing the right shade of foundation. He was trying way too hard to look like an off-brand Cullen. Charlie didn’t even look up from his drink. “Well, she dropped her wallet, and I tried to give it back to her, and she punched me in the face.”

“You make me sound like a total bitch when  _ you’re _ the one who snuck up on me.” You retorted, taking a swig from your beer. “Sorry I broke your nose, though.”

“Whoa, whoa, so we’re just gonna excuse the fact that Charlie got assaulted?” The perfectly-coiffed man asserted, sitting down beside Frank. 

“I don’t think that’s assault, man, it was self-defense.” Answered Mac, cracking open his own beer. You idly wondered if it was legal for bartenders to drink on the job. Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Dennis, you wouldn’t say it was assault if Dee punched you.”

Dennis huffed impatiently. “First of all, Dee couldn’t lay a  _ hand _ on me without exacting my righteous fury. Secondly, do you really think that women can’t hit men?”

“It’s only assault if a  _ man _ hits a  _ woman.”  _ Frank cut in, draining the last of his beer and setting the bottle back on the bar with a harsh ‘tap’. “Women ain’t strong enough to do damage.”

“She broke his fucking nose!” Dennis exclaimed, gesturing at the blood that was drying into a crust on Charlie’s mustache.

You watched all of this while nursing your drink, wondering what kind of weird-ass place you had found yourself in. Over the rim of your bottle, you looked back at Charlie. He was taking part in the exchange with animated mannerisms, gesturing wildly with his hands. Something inexplicable fluttered in your chest. He was really…  _ cute. _

You looked away, assuming it was just the warmth in the bar that was making your cheeks so warm, and set your beer down. “Well, it’s getting pretty late… I should probably head back to my place.” Standing up and grabbing your coat from the stool, you went for the door. Charlie trailed after you, leaving his friends still deep in their discussion.

“You don’t have to leave  _ yet!  _ What’s the hurry?”

His eyes were so clear and earnest that it made that same unfamiliar something flutter inside you again. God, he was  _ adorable.  _ What the hell had you been thinking, punching a guy like that?

“Maybe some other time, Charlie. I’ve got work in the morning, I really should-”

As you opened the door, a gust of freezing wind from outside wrenched it out of your hand. The flurry had changed into a fucking blizzard, with the snow practically blowing sideways. You yelped, surprised, and managed to pull it back shut with Charlie’s help. The two of you stood there for a second, hair blown wild and eyes wide, before you looked back at him.

“On second thought, I think I’ll have that drink.”

~*~

“I’m just saying that I don’t  _ understand _ why you don’t think Bigfoot is real!” Charlie’s slur was more pronounced than before as he leaned against the bar, on his 27th beer. He and the other members of the group had kept calling the situation a ‘Bar Camp’, something they apparently did when the weather got too bad to leave the pub. They’d closed up for the night and turned all the main lights off, leaving just the ambient glow from the string-lights over the bar.

“How could he be real if no one’s ever seen him?” Mac interjected, arms crossed. Charlie spluttered incoherently. “There are  _ pictures,  _ Mac!”

You were only on your fifth drink and yet were still feeling pretty tipsy, leaning forward to prop yourself on your hands as you watched him talk. He just kept getting  _ cuter.  _ You’d gotten close enough to him a couple times to get a whiff of something that could have been cheese or maybe cat food, but you were drunk enough for that not to matter.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered to you if you were sober, either.

The other three members of the group had decided to brave the weather to go get some more beer, leaving you, Charlie, and Mac in the front of the bar. You felt the room swaying a little as you watched Mac and Charlie argue over cryptids. 

“God only made man in his image, anything else humanoid would just be an insult to the gospel. Do your research.” Mac insisted with an air of finality, draining the last of his drink. “I’m gonna go piss.”

As he stormed off angrily to the bathroom, Charlie looked back at you. He  _ still _ hadn’t cleaned the blood from his mustache, and an ugly-looking bruise was starting to form under one of his eyes. He slurred your name, leaning forward until he was just a couple inches from your face. Yeah, the smell was definitely cat food.

“How ya like Bar Camp?”

You hummed thoughtfully, tipping your bottle back and forth with an idle finger. “It beats walking home in a blizzard. I wish every bar I went to offered this service.”

“I can totally be a butler, if you want.” He cleared his throat, then gave an attempt at a british accent while slinging a bar towel over his forearm. “My lady, could I interest you in another of our fine refreshments, wot wot?”

You snorted, pushing your empty beer out of the way. “Nothing would please me more, my good man!”

He pulled another drink from behind the bar, setting it in front of you and twisting the cap off with a flourish. “Another drink for the lady, mmm-yes!”

Picking it up with a playful grin, you looked up into his unfocused eyes again to see just how close he was to you. Intoxicated compulsion took you over, and you stood up from your barstool to kiss his cheek.

Charlie flinched, eyes widening, and he braced his hands against the bar as he leaned back quickly. You felt your stomach drop, worried you’d gone too far. “Shit, I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, you just- you’re really cute.”

“I, uh-” The man hesitated, something that could have been a blush darkening his face. “Is that why you punched me?”

“What?”

“Well, y’know, if someone’s mean to you that means they like you. Like how you punched me in the face and then tried to leave the bar earlier, I thought we had a pretty good thing going.” Charlie said simply, explaining it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But this… this kinda confuses things.” You scoffed, bemused.

“I  _ kissed _ you because I liked you.”

“But- earlier, that’s why it wasn’t assault, because you liked me. Right?” His expressive eyebrows furrowed together quizzically. Why was he still so caught up on the assault thing?

You weren’t sure if it was your drunken state that allowed you to take the plunge, but something about him was just so adorable you had to prove him wrong.

You propped your elbows onto the bar and kissed him properly, the gentle brush of his facial hair against your lips making you giggle. He froze, processed what was happening, and then came at you with all tongue and teeth as his deft little hands grabbed at your face. It was clumsy, drunk, and awkward, and yet by the time you pulled back from him you were practically lightheaded with excitement.

His eyes were glazed and his lips were parted when he looked at you, as if he’d just run a marathon. You wanted to eat him up with a fucking spoon.  _ “That _ means I like you, dumbass.”

Charlie seemed to struggle for words, his hands fiddling with each other as he narrowed his eyes. Eventually he blinked a couple times, seemingly coming back to reality. “You smell nice.” Was all he said, almost  _ shyly.  _ Your heart nearly exploded, and at the same time you felt the first pang of desire somewhere in your core.

“Does the back office have a lock?” You asked salaciously, raising an eyebrow. He blinked. 

“Yeah, why?”

“I feel like showing you how much I like you even more.” You responded, edging your way toward the office door and playfully fiddling with the hem of your shirt. In the dim light, you saw Charlie’s eyes widen before he trailed after you eagerly. The door slammed shut with a click of the lock.

~*~

Mac came out of the bathroom, groaning as he held his stomach. Fucking IPAs always wrecked his digestive system. The bar was empty, with Charlie and that girl he’d met nowhere to be seen. Maybe they’d gone to get more beer or something, Mac surmised, sitting at one of the tables and pulling out his phone.

The front door suddenly burst open with another chilling gust of wind as Frank, Dennis, and Dee came piling back in. “Close the damn door, holy christ!” Dee exclaimed, wrapping her bony arms around herself. Frank hauled it shut as Dennis hoisted a couple twelve-packs onto the bar’s counter. “Fucking cold as balls.” Frank muttered, trying to rub some feeling back into his hands.

“Wait, but aren’t balls  _ warm?”  _ Mac said, tilting his head. Dennis scoffed. “No, dumbass, they hang from the body so they don’t overheat. Where’s Charlie and that girl?”

“I dunno. Thought they left.” Mac remarked, but as he did so a surprisingly loud groan came from the back office.

The gang froze.

Then looked at each other.

A muffled  _ “Fuck, yes!”, _ followed by a harsh  _ slap. _

In the newfound silence, they could hear the rhythmic squeaking of the office’s desk.

“Aw, come  _ on!”  _ Dennis groaned, gesturing to the door. “Now that is  _ definitely _ assault.”

“How the fuck is that assault if they’re  _ both _ doing it?” Dee argued, trying her best to block out the distinct, albeit muffled, moans coming from the locked room.

“Because Charlie’s drunk as shit, Dee! That’s rape!”

“He’s no more drunk than she is, that’s for damn sure.” Mac interjected. Another loud slap echoed from the room. The gang collectively flinched.

“I  _ really _ hope it’s her getting spanked.” Frank muttered, shuddering at the idea of the alternative. His words were barely acknowledged as the rest of the group kept bickering, obviously trying to tune out the thudding sounds, now against one of the walls.

Dennis rubbed his eyes. “Is Charlie even _ smart _ enough to consent to sex?”

“He banged the Waitress, that should count for something.” Mac remarked thoughtfully. Dee cracked open a beer, leaning against the bar. “Well, we should be glad he’s banging someone  _ other  _ than the Waitress. Huge weight off my shoulders, I hate that bitch.”

“Think that desk can support ‘em both, or does he have to fuck her against it?” Frank asked, to which the rest of the gang gave exaggerated gagging noises. “Frank, you are  _ disgusting!”  _ Dennis said, his sentence punctuated by a muffled, hoarse shout from Charlie.

The gang froze again.

“Did he finish?” Dee asked quietly.

“That sounded like he finished.” Mac muttered. 

They held their breath in the pregnant silence.

The desk started squeaking again. Everyone groaned, Dee draining her beer and crumpling the can with her fist. 

“If they go a second time, it’s not assault. Rapists usually stop caring at that point.” Frank said thoughtfully. Dennis raised both hands in a gesture of mock surrender. 

“Okay, okay, I yield. It’s  _ not  _ assault.” He muttered darkly. “But I don’t really want to have to listen to Charlie banging this chick in our office, which we’ll have to disinfect after, so let’s just go get drunk at home.”

“Ooh, I don’t know.” Dee winced. “What if they bang on the pool table while we’re gone?”

“Like hell, I spent a fortune on that thing!” Frank exclaimed, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. “Besides, too damn cold to go anywhere now. It’s Bar Camp.”

In the office, the moaning sounds were getting louder and more exaggerated. Dennis hesitated, shrugged, and grabbed a beer of his own. They’d be done eventually.

~*~

Two hours later, you finally collapsed on the floor, glazed with sweat and panting heavily. Charlie’s head rested on your chest as he gasped for air. “Holy  _ fuck,” _ You said more to yourself than him, as you idly stroked his damp hair. “I didn’t think you’d have that much stamina.”

“It just kept feeling nice.” Charlie responded weakly, his sweat-slick skin tacky against yours. It had certainly been a way to beat the cold- it was stifling hot in the office.

You looked down at him, curled up against you as you both rested on your discarded clothes. He looked sweet like that, all tired and vulnerable, and something compelled you to lean down and kiss the top of his head. His green eyes met yours, and he gave the same little half-smile he had when you’d met just hours earlier.

“Does this mean you still like me?” His voice was a little calmer than usual, almost on the borderline of sleepy. You chuckled and nodded, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Of course.” You murmured, pulling him closer against you and holding him like a teddy bear. “I’ll come back a lot more often, if you want me to.”

“Just don’t break my nose again.” He said quietly with a yawn, nestling his head into the crook of your shoulder. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded tiredly, your eyelids getting heavy. He was like a little puppy, all snuggled up against you, and you were getting drowsy faster than you could handle it. You spared the top of his head one last kiss before passing out on the floor beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all like this I might develop it into more of a series... or at least write a second chapter where we see what was going on in the office, *wink wonk*
> 
> Until then, toodles! xoxo, P&B


End file.
